


The Wedding Vows

by charab



Series: Dysfunctional Affairs [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Demons, Humans, M/M, Silly little snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:36:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5365091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charab/pseuds/charab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When his Will of Fire proved to be far more devious than he had anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wedding Vows

**Author's Note:**

> I blame all the wonderful KakaIru demon fics for giving inspiration to this series. Thought to make my own contribution to this interesting alternate universe, with a key phrase 'dysfunctional affairs' guiding the writing, hence the name of the series. Enjoy.

During the times when the legends arose as quick as the flicker of a flame and disappeared like the fading smoke without a trace, there was a rumored city hidden in the heart of the Land of Fire. A beautiful fortress, they said, with the white walls of the tall buildings reaching higher than the tallest trees, and lush gardens bearing fruits of unknown origins. Not many had seen it with their own eyes, but all willing to listen had heard the stories of its citizens: people who were as silent as the darkest shadows and were as deadly as their exquisite weapons, strong like the finest steel molded in the burning heat of murderous demons who they were all said to worship. It didn't take much for outsiders to take the rumors as facts; after all, the emissaries who had passed the gates of Konohagakure had returned without the boast or pompous they had carried on their persons, the subdued paleness on their troubled faces being enough to fuel the restless murmur that carried like a wildfire across the lands and the cities. Even the high nobles, the most enthusiastic spreaders of both money and loosely checked facts, were forced to face their worst nightmares when the shadows decorating the halls and chambers of their palace took the forms of darkly dressed and politely bowing masked strangers who didn't need to raise more than their gaze to make the hairs of their prey turn ashen white before yet another servant of men met his early death in silence.  
  
They said that there was something in their eyes. Others claimed them to cover their sharp teeth with their white porcelain masks. Some were convinced that the elusive assassins themselves were the very demons that the people of Konohagakure had managed to make kneel for them under their steel-hard reign and dedicated carnal offerings. For one thing they were all certain, though: whether they were human or demons, they were claimed as vile creatures wearing the skins of men who had met their doom by their clawed hands.

 

* * *

  
  
A scrape of a sandal against a stone step of a stair echoed like a scream of a critter in the silent night, and the softly hissed curse following it was swallowed by the darkness trailing after the light-gray robes of the figure who was ascending the wide stone stairs towards its destination. The moon was out, its light illuminating lean back, messily cropped silver hair and sharply looking eyes that scanned the nocturnal scenery with the fervency of an animal that knew to be trespassing on hostile land. The body of what appeared to be a male was poised tight like a string, ready to snap into action should the situation warrant it. After a beat, the minutely trembling hands took a hold of the coarse fabric covering the cautiously relaxing shoulders and fixed it a little tighter around the lithe body. The feel of the leather straps securing his hidden blades tight against his body did put a drop of ease in his veins, but listening to the sound of his hammering heart didn't lessen the fact that the young Hatake Kakashi, the nineteen-year-old heir of the White Fang and the apprentice of the Yellow Flash felt utterly ridiculous at the very moment.  
  
Stupid Obito, stupid Rin, stupid Genma, stupid Asuma and stupid, stupid Kakashi for falling for the trap that the four aforementioned idiots had sprung at him during the afternoon. The pale cheeks puffed in annoyance, and the young man turned his eyes once more towards his destination, the building that loomed over him in shrouded darkness, with only oil lamps with their flickering flames showing the imposing entrance of their shinobi temple school. Test of courage, his ass. He had never heard of such a tradition among his peers, and had started to suspect that the boisterous way Obito had claimed to have hidden his precious three-point blade into the temple had more to do with the fact that the dark-haired numbskull had lost it and was rightfully afraid to admit it rather than the four 'friends' of his having decided to see if he lived up to his growing fame.  
  
The flickering flames of the burning oil cast animated shadows through the corridor that led inside the building, and Kakashi made a stop at the threshold, his mind having calmed down enough to go through the possibilities of the most obvious places for Obito to hide the inherited weapon. If an Uchiha was even capable of grasping the concept of obvious, that is. The silvery eyebrows drew into a pensive frown, and the thin, pale lips were drawn into a grim line. It was something that Rin had hinted; something about the ceremonial hall at the back of the temple. A groan arose from the pale-skinned throat at the passing thought. Sometimes they all made him wonder. Nevertheless, he had a blade to redeem and some friends to scold after he was done with this irritating adventure.  
  
He could only hope that the servants hadn't yet spotted his absence and reported to his father; he really didn't need any more trouble than what his comrades were perfectly capable of causing him. Maybe he should have raised the stakes and demand that they gave half of their lunch to his hounds for a month once he was done proving them wrong. Rin's mother would have thrown an entertaining fit for that one. The thought made a sinister chuckle fall from his lips, the faint whispers of it answering back from the silent walls and corners of the sleeping building, and it would have made him a suicidal idiot to not feel a shiver travel down his spine at that. However, that didn't prevent him from taking a small oil lamp from the wall, lighting it by the door and then walking into the awaiting darkness like a fool hell-bent on cutting his life considerately shorter.  
  
Shushed shuffles of sandal-clad feet echoed off from the stone walls and empty alcoves as the young man made his way through the maze of corridors, the flicker of the faint lantern light offering meek resistance against the thick tendrils of shadows that nipped at his heels and curled around his calves as Kakashi peered around the corners and stopped by open entrances leading to the empty training halls and eerily quiet study rooms. He was no longer a pupil here, just like none of his peers were, but they all worked there as the teacher's assistants in order to gain practice over theory, to learn the ropes for their shinobi way and making a full use of the training facilities whenever their tasks allowed it.  
  
As he ventured further into the deep recesses of the temple, the closer he drew to his goal, Kakashi's mind followed the ignited fuse of his knowledge on their tradition, the stories he had heard, the tales he had tattled with other toddlers, having learned them from their lullabies when they were groomed to be the next generation within the hidden city's walls. The outsiders of other cities would be astonished to find out that most of their bed-time stories and hushed talks were based on complete nonsense, half of which was carefully constructed and spread by the same shinobis of Konohagakure who did their gruesome duty under the contracts of their highest bidders. They were assassins, true, but they were also merely human, with no real fangs or forked tongues to show off to their preys, no scales or spikes nor feathers hidden under their modest robes. Just toughened skin that was just as easy to stab as any other living being's, and strong-willed minds that were just as easy to break like the finest china, with faces one could recognize without the masks protecting them from prying eyes. The cold gray eyes didn't pay much attention to where his feet carried him when the young shinobi thought about one particular fact that the foreign citizens had miraculously gotten right on a first try.  
  
They did worship a being far greater and far more dangerous than any other deities that were celebrated and sacrificed for in the other cities and nations: The Will of Fire.  
  
Although, as far as Kakashi and his peers knew, it certainly wasn't some flashy god or other ethereal entity, but flames in a brightly burning hearth centered in the hall that took their heat and light from the hearts of those who vowed their lives to the care and guidance of fire, who became the determined soldiers of shadows that made sure that their city stayed safe and sound from threats from the outside. He had seen the ritual many times, just as many foreign emissaries had, and even though he could agree that the flashy way of bringing in the virgin bride for the leisure of the brightly burning flames at the end of the graduation ceremony was quite entertaining to watch and left them all with a tingling sensation of mystery as the selected bride was left alone behind the closed doors, Kakashi couldn't help but wonder why, even during the times when showing power wasn't any longer on the top of their priority list, they kept up the particular appearances. Then again, he had never really felt the need to dive into the plots of gaining political influence, since he had known from the cradle what he was bound to become.  
  
The fleeting light of the lantern was reflected from the dark mahogany doors that suddenly appeared before him, the top of the double doors vanishing into the shadows and the wooden surface appearing to suck in the glow of the feeble light. Kakashi took a moment to consider his next move, mapping the high doors with calculating gaze. There wasn't anything to be stolen from the ceremonial hall, so the chance of running into any guards was low. The pale young man gave a pause at that idea, and slowly turned his head to observe the stretching darkness that hid away the path he had just walked. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen a soul, nor heard anyone else walking the corridors beside himself. Silver eyebrows furrowed in suspicion: either it had been deemed unnecessary to guard the building, or he had been so absorbed into his thoughts that he had failed to notice anyone trailing after him. A sliver of unease traveled down his spine, but a quick shake of the silver-haired head discarded the creeping doubt and warning bells that tried to make themselves heard inside his mind. He was the son of the White Fang; he could trespass all he wanted if it came to the temple school and the ceremonial hall.  
  
For some reason, his instincts weren't quite convinced of his reasoning, and out of reflex, the moment when he lifted his free hand and reached to push open the heavy door, the silver-haired teen wasn't so surprised to discover the niggling dread of waltzing right into an ambush, his body gearing up to both fight and flight at the same time when his palm pressed against the warm wood and his arm pushed forward.  
  
He was really going to cut Obito into neat little pieces after all this.  
  
A creak of solid wood hanging from slightly rusty hinges disrupted the silence like a screech of an owl, and for a moment, Kakashi could have easily counted all the hairs that had stood up on his neck if he had wanted. A beat and two, and he let out the breath he had been holding. Nothing was triggered, no one came bearing down at his neck. Yet, at least. Steeling his resolve, the pale hand pushed the door open, the keenly listening ears tracking any sorts of sounds that could have been out of place while the wooden barrier slid open and the gray, narrow eyes sought out the only source of light that illuminated the large hall before his eyes: the square-shaped hearth, no more than one square meter in size, taking the center part of the spacious room, its orange flames flicking and flowing lazily. After casting one last look over his shoulder, Kakashi stepped over the threshold, idly noting for the first time how high the wooden beam crossing the doorway really was; like a barrier designed to keep the unwanted outside – or to force the wanted to stay inside. A pause at that thought, and then a dry huff fell from the young man's lips: the immature challenge was really getting to him if Kakashi's mind started to conjure up such tales now of all times.  
  
He had learned that being an admired genius did have its other side, and that had always been the tad too vivid imagination he had been born with, much to his father's confusion. When he had asked about it, during one murky night when the son and his sire had had the time to sit down over a shared pot of tea, the young man had been told that their family had never really been ones to see or think things outside their reality, but born with minds that were pragmatic and analytical, the best there was for their profession. So the father's awkwardness when he had clumsily comforted his weeping little boy who had been shaking from head to toe and claiming that there were demons under his bed had been somewhat understandable, if rather something that they together vowed not to tell anyone else. A smile crept on the thin lips at that little memory, which somehow managed to lift Kakashi's spirit and reel his mind back on the path it should be more concentrated on instead of seeing things in the shadows that really weren't there: namely finding his three-pointed blade and then making his dear friends pay dearly for making him miss sleep that night. He had to substitute his superior in class for the thirteen years old the next day, and by heavens if Konohamaru thought of doing any stunts the kids would have a crash course on how the bored looks of their young teacher's assistant could be fatally deceiving.  
  
The searching eyes mapped the room around him, seeing the piles of sitting pillows in corners, rows of hanging scrolls decorating the walls opposite from the double doors, the large, wide pedestal on which the Hokage and their highest ranks sat on rare occasions, and the eternally burning fire warming the space in which it had been trapped. The only sounds Kakashi caught was the occasional snap of the fire, and the flow of his own breath, the building around him silent as a tomb. In some sense, considering the decibels he usually confronted within the very same walls, the heavy silence felt oddly comforting. Then, a gleam of metal caught the corner of his eye, and the nineteen-year-old shinobi turned his focus towards it. Soon enough, the item for his quest came to sight, just on the other side of the bright flames, peeking under a pillow that was haphazardly thrown over a slim chest made of dark wood. Kakashi rolled his eyes at the pitiful sight: really, the others could have put a bit more effort in making him to actually see the point in all this. Wanting to get back without wasting any more precious time he could have used for sleeping soundly in his warm bed, the young man strode to the chest, squatted down, put down his lantern before pulling his weapon from under the pillow, and after confirming that it was indeed his, put the found object in its rightful place beneath his robes and then turned his assessing gaze back to the partially hidden chest that he had not seen before.  
  
The pale hands pushed the pillow away from obscuring the view, and turning his back to the fire, Kakashi knelt by the chest, his long fingers tentative as they touched its smooth surface. It was worn with age, clearly older than he was, but still in frequent use, if the good condition of its polished wood and clean metal latches was any indication. Now, they had all been taught at early age of why exactly curious cats had nine lives, and Kakashi promptly silenced the small voice wondering aloud at the back of his head. However, that didn't make him stop his finger from poking at the decorated metal plate gleaming with invitation on the edge of the chest's lid, and his heart didn't beat any slower when the lid flung gracefully open without a sound; like a whisper of a feathered wing.  
  
….Alright, so he had accidentally found the opening mechanism of an unknown wooden chest while trespassing the ceremonial hall in the middle of the night. Stranger things did certainly happen, he was sure.  
  
Peeking inside, it didn't take the top student long to categorize the contents of the chest: three old wooden boxes with _chalk_ written on them, a brush, a stack of rectangular papers reminding him of seals they all knew how to use, and a glass bottle of dark liquid, most probably ink. As much as the thought humored him, Kakashi was rather doubtful about the possibility of stumbling upon a forgotten calligraphy set. On the other hand, knowing Obito's ability to forget and lose almost everything except his own head due to the fact that it was firmly in contact with his shoulders, the young shinobi wouldn't really be surprised if that indeed was the case.  
  
Picking up one of the boxes reading _chalk_ , Kakashi turned towards the hearth and spent a moment on studying the design and decor of the little box. It was a modest little package, its lid brown with artistically styled flames running along its sides, drawn with what seemed like reddish-brown ink, and its equally brown sides missing decorations altogether. The lid was the sliding type, held in place by the slightly taller long sides of the box, missing the lock and the key, and against his instincts warning about his growing curiosity, Kakashi pushed the thin veneer with his fingers and slid the box half-way open. What he saw inside was indeed chalk, but not in the form of compressed sticks that he had anticipated, but as a fine powder, it glowing in the colors of orange and yellow in the light of the fire. Well, he hadn't been expecting anything else than chalk, so it was easy to discard the slight disappointment of getting all worked up over something that wasn't even his to snoop.  
  
The pale fingers twirled a symbol of 'Fire' on the surface of the white powder before wiping it gently off, and the young man sat still, quietly mulling over his little find.  
  
Perhaps it belonged to the ones tending the temple the school functioned in, the monks who worked beside the teachers and took charge of the lone youngsters in need of accommodation, food and safety from the streets. Kakashi could ask them the next day, let them know that should they find one of their chests amiss, it could be found from the hall. The dark gray eyes peered at the snapping flames in front of him, the high cheekbones feeling the emanating heat coming from the lively fire. He could do that, after he got some sleep first and survived the day's tasks, that is. The young man picked a small handful of powder in his hand, and after making a passing observation of how its pale color almost matched the color of his palm, the shinobi stood up and stepped closer to the languidly snapping fire.  
  
Then, with a snap of his wrist, he flicked the powder into the flames.  
  
The moment his ears started ringing with a piercing high-pitched whistle that almost shattered his eardrums, his mind caught up to register that he had done something he should not have.  
  
The light of the flames flashed into blinding fireworks of glowing white and blue, the flicks of the flames flaring into heights the young man had never seen, them almost licking at the high ceiling above his head. Yet that wasn't what had made Kakashi forget every single rule of his training and freeze him on his tracks, his eyes staring inside the raging flames while his rigidly standing body was having a screaming competition with his mind that was telling him that by now he should have bolted out of the room; it was a pair of smoldering eyes looking steadily back at him amidst the burning flames.  
  
As quick as they had gone out of control, the flames snuffed out like a candle. The steam that resulted from the rapid cooling twirled in the air like pale snakes, wrapping around the stunned shinobi's body, sliding down his robes and dipping into his hidden pockets, yet the sudden darkness that momentarily made him lose his sight of the room didn't last long as a steady glow took place. When he realized where the glow was coming from, all of his instincts were drawn into sharp focus, like the ones of someone crossing paths with something that was distinctly carnivore.  
  
As it was, in the center of the hearth, stood gracefully a being that looked like a naked man whose dark complex glowed with an eerie mixture of blue and yellow flames licking his bare skin, them flowing through his long hair that twirled and curled leisurely in the air around his strong neck and high cheekbones. Hissing steam rose from his broad shoulders, hands, hips and feet, and yet none of those factors were more mesmerizing than the intelligent eyes, glowing in pale gold and luscious blue, that peered at the young shinobi curiously while Kakashi's hackles rose in a meek show of self-defense.  
  
For a moment that felt like an eternity stretched tight over its skin, the man and the strange being stared back at each other, both the gray and the brightly glowing eyes measuring the sight they were presented with. Then, with a sound that resembled dry wood snapping neatly in high temperature, the dark-haired head cocked to one side and an expressive, dark eyebrow was quirked in an amused angle on the otherwise expressionless face.  
  
_[You are not a maiden.]_  
  
For his defense, being busy with his internal battle between the pros and cons of confronting an unknown opponent in a fight that a growing part of him doubted he could win, Kakashi failed to see any intellectual answer to that, so his stupefied silence that lasted for a couple of beats was understandable. “Uh...should I be?”  
  
It formed a terrifying grin on its face, rows of pearly white teeth almost splitting its face in half. Words were heard in his mind, but the smirking mouth stayed closed, which made Kakashi finally decide that it was indeed not a mortal that was eying him like its next lunch. Unsurprisingly that did not lessen his gradually rising panic one iota. _[Young._ _Fit and_ _wordy. How interesting.]_  
  
Then it moved, so silently and so suddenly, that Kakashi could only blink when he found himself staring at the glowing embers of coal where there should have been a naked body before he actually understood that the being had stepped out from the hearth and was now sharing the same air with him. The revelation was shortly lived, though, and his body jerked into motion the second he spied the glowing eyes behind his right shoulder, the assassin trainee pivoting on his heels and almost backing into the ashes of the hearth, stopping within an inch of stepping over the wooden ledge separating the now empty and cold fireplace from the wooden floor. Noticing then that he was still holding the little box in his shaking hands, the young man grabbed yet another handful of chalk, him experiencing a rather odd out-of-body vision when he saw the passing look of suspicion cross the other's tan face at the sight of a spirited young adult facing off what appeared to be a fire's embodiment with a trembling fistful of chalk powder.  
  
The being's voice, heated like burning coal and coaxing like a cozy campfire during a winter night, rang through Kakashi's mind, and a small part of his mind ticked the voice sounding like it was highly pleased. _[Certainly not a maiden. They were never this creative.]_  
  
“You're awfully fixated on that,” Kakashi found his mouth responding, and was surprised to feel some of his self-confidence re-surface from the depths of his terrified heart. His footing faltered, though, the second he realized that the other was taller than him with more than just a few inches, the dark-skinned being with a body of fire towering over him like a human torch that had no sense of personal space. His dry throat worked to swallow his rising insecurities back down. He was a shinobi. He could talk with men, no, _creatures_ , who literally wore fire as their robes and didn't need vocal cords to chit-chat with their prey. On that passing note, the teen could only blame his surfacing curiosity when the next words were blurted from his mouth. “You're not a summon, are you?”  
  
The answering chuckle rang smooth and low, and yet it still set his teeth on the edge. _[Ignorant as well as rude.]_ Then, the horrifying grin adorning the man's tan features took a sharp turn into a wicked smile, and the being's eyes sparked like ignited gunpowder. _[I shall take my time playing with your silver tongue.]_  
  
The tan man managed to only shift his weight before Kakashi flung the chalk dust from his hand in the air, it creating a white cloud between them two and thus obscuring the view for his opponent, it giving an insane chance which Kakashi readily took as he spun around to dash over the cool hearth, ash clouds rising from his feet as they touched the ground of the fireplace. Regrettably, he could only take two steps into the hearth when a body of fire erupted in his path, and the silver-haired teen's face smacked right against a smoldering hot naked chest. The resulting sting of a sudden sunburn taking over his upper body and face was a strange sensation to say the least, but the current turmoil of his analytical mind made it quick to discard the passing observation into the pile of things that had ceased to make any sense during the past fifteen minutes.  
  
_[_ _F_ _ast._ _C_ _unning._ _Like a shinobi.]_ The heated words pulled at his spine, and blinded by the bright eyes gazing keenly down at his, Kakashi stumbled backwards and almost tripped over as his heels hit the edge of the hearth, had the scalding hot hands not grasped onto his robes and pulled him back standing on the ashen soil. The given respite wasn't more than a wheeze of breath before a bruising hold on his chin tipped his head back and his spinning eyes were suddenly looking straight into the calm burn of molten iron that swirled in the other's eyes. _[_ _Arrogant f_ _ools, willing to sacrifice their fine breed to feed the fire which will be the end of them.]_  
  
In that exact second, Kakashi stopped trying to make any sense in the situation and decided to concentrate on things with what he may still be able to remain coherent considering the things the other was talking about. “Just a trainee, not a fully qualified shinobi yet.” An agitated groan tumbled from his mouth as a blistering ache increased on his skin, and his head jerked against the tight hold while the air was hissed in and out between his clenching teeth. “It burns. Let me go.” Which wasn't far from truth, when his pale chin felt like it was captured in a steel glove that had been heated in a furnace for a good while.  
  
_[Oh?]_ The curious lilt in the dark-haired man's voice rumbled like a collapsing skeleton of a building that was swallowed by a roaring fire. _[What of it, shinobi?]_ The fiery-haired head dipped lower and the man's nose lightly nuzzled the silvery hair of his captive. A long exhale was hissed next to Kakashi's ear, causing the young man to shiver violently despite his overheating skin. _[You burn to become steel, do you not? Steel that does not bend, that does not melt_ _nor break_ _, does not feel_ _love_ _nor fear_ _death_ _.]_  
  
The said words were enough to snap Kakashi's reeling mind back to present, and the echo of the history behind them was enough to make his tongue work. “...The Will of Fire,” he said, the words sounding faint to his own ears. Then, another twirl of a loose end made his knees weak and he felt like his breath had been punched from his gut, the gray, narrow eyes widening in barely contained shock at the sudden turn of thoughts. All those stories. It couldn't be.  
  
The tan, glowing face lit with pure delight at his expression. Then, the color in the glowing eyes turned several shades of a sunset before settling into icy blue, the eyes narrowing into slits. _[It seems that not only your tongue or_ _the_ _silly blades_ _are the sharpest weapon_ _s that you are capable of using_ _._ _I_ _mpress_ _ive_ _.]_ The words were purred through his mind in a way that made a heat that had nothing to do with the fiery fingers holding him rise rapidly on Kakashi's pale cheeks. For his growing inconvenience, the creature in question seemed to have noticed it, and a gleam of something burning in higher temperature than the rest permeated the steady warmth in the slanted eyes while the smothering hold on the pale chin tightened like a vice. _[_ _Getting embarrassed_ _over_ _complimenting words, shinobi?_ _You mak_ _e_ _me wonder what other colors I could get to bloom on this_ _fair_ _skin._ _]_  
  
The young shinobi in question couldn't decide if he should laugh hysterically or weep like an infant when the nature of his predicament was starting to become clear to him. The being holding him in its grasp was an ancient demon, a dangerous and a highly intelligent entity described in their scrolls of regional history, a creature of the tall tales haunting the children in their nightmares, and while getting very visible and undoubtedly painful tan lines on his lower face wasn't the most comfortable experience, Kakashi felt irrationally mortified over the fact that the look that he caught gleaming in his captor's eyes was making him downright ready to piss all over himself should his bladder have the courage to take over of his ureter.  
  
_[You know,_ _I do not know if it is the sheer want for vengeance talking, but_ _I_ _seem to_ _have_ _developed_ _a_ _ **t**_ _ **aste**_ _for your kind.]_ The soft murmur that echoed at the back of his mind made Kakashi's mouth feel dry like sand, the reverberating voice of the demon darkening with every passing beat, the words it carried dripping like melting wax over their young prey's mental barriers. _[It has certainly been long for me to encounter_ _anything else_ _besides_ _the pampered maidens who could hardly_ _match my appetite_ _for more than two minutes..but_ _ **you**_ _, on the other hand...I could take my time with you, shinobi, play with you like nobody else could, and you would forget everything else that ever existed beyond these pitiful four walls built by foolish men.]_  
  
Kakashi's mind was disintegrating at the same speed as it tried to keep up with the pace his accelerated pulse was hammering, it picking up speed over every single word rattling inside his head and igniting trails of wildfire throughout his body, and he wasted a hitching breath when the hold on his chin changed into a hold on his silvery mane, the rough pull upwards stretching his neck and making his feet almost leave the ground. The unfocused gray met glinting blue, and the young man couldn't prevent the violent shudder coursing through him as he felt the creature's sharp gaze trail over the burn marks that were now undoubtedly imprinted on his jaw.  
  
That was all he needed.  
  
The mere second of the demon's shifting focus was enough for his trained body to kick itself back into action: one pale hand scooped a new fistful of chalk from the box that he was still holding and let the cloud of white powder once again act as his cover while he pulled his beloved blade from beneath his robes and struck the demon across its momentarily stunned face. A howl of outrage shook the walls around them and Kakashi took his opportunity the moment when the burning hands let go of him in favor of covering his screaming assailant's injured nose. The young man ducked down to the side and dashed on quick feet as far as he could before rounding the wounded demon, aiming to find its blind spot, his feverish mind remembering the lessons of their classes that covered the hypothetical run-ins with supernatural beings, the silver-haired genius rifling through his options to reach the double doors and cross the barrier beam without getting gutted in the process.  
  
Suddenly his path was cut by a violently howling wall of fire that wasted no time circling around him, and when he turned his head to locate the furious demon stalking towards him through the growing flames of hell, Kakashi knew he was out of options to flee and was facing the inevitable fate of getting messily killed in a frustratingly unfair combat. Nevertheless, he was the heir of the White Fang, the pupil of the Yellow Flash, so he wasn't one to go down without fighting with tooth and nail. As his last effort to gain even an inch of footing in the situation, the pale hands emptied the last of the chalk on the floor and hastily drew a protective barrier circle around the silver-haired shinobi, the craftsmanship of the circle shape so sloppy that he felt his ears burn with embarrassment despite the sense of impending doom looming over his neck. His hands, one still holding the blade, rushed through the protective signs that made his chakra crackle before settling into a clear hum as the last hand sign slid into place. He held, held onto the protective hand seals for dear life, while the play of lights and shadows brushed against his pale skin, his tense body, his trembling hands and thundering pulse, the blood in his veins roaring like a battle cry of the desperate warriors who knew they never were given a choice for mercy nor salvage, but who refused to die as long as their spirits remained unshattered.  
  
For his unease, the teen also noted that the demon who was glaring fiery daggers at him was thinking along the same lines. The man radiated rage beyond the sense of common men, his well-sculpted body shaking with fury and fueling the flames that were licking his tan skin, making his long dark hair whip up in the air as it was caught in the storm of fire, the blazing flames all the more prominently showing off the fresh new scar that cut across its face from cheek to cheek and over the straight nose, the pale line drawn by a blade marring the dark skin. The voice, heated like a barrel of burning oil and scathing like the storm of curses from the mouths of dead men, thundered throughout the young man's mind. _[_ _ **You are a fool like the ones before you. A complete fool for coming here and challenging something that you have no chance of winning against.**_ _]_  
  
“Says the one who is imprisoned inside four walls, occupies a mere hearth and spends his time wallowing in murderous fantasies when not spooking unarmed virgins,” Kakashi heard himself answer under his breath before he could even think of the stupidity of provoking a pissed off demon any further.  
  
If there had been a pin that could have survived the temperature that suddenly rose in the large hall, it would have dropped and yet neither of the men would have heard it over the deafening silence that followed the abrupt explosion of heat, during which Kakashi bleakly surmised that perhaps that was what it felt like to be inside of a volcano when it erupted.  
  
If anything, the fire in the slanted eyes was positively turning hot like molten lava, the voice roaring inside the young man's mind picking up volume on every passing syllable, punching cracks and whipping deep welts into the barriers of the trained mind that were protecting Kakashi's shivering spirit. _[_ _ **You say that again, shinobi, and I will rip you out of your skin and make you watch while I burn it before tearing out your tongue and shoving it**_ _ **down**_ _ **your**_ _ **throat**_ _ **so deep that you CAN**_ _ **TASTE THE SHIT THAT YOU HUMANS ARE SO FULL OF.**_ _]_ In a clear show of its malicious temper, the demon spit arcs of fire to the sides and clawed strings of burning air with its nails, adding to the wall of heat that made Kakashi's skin slick with sweat and his body complain with severe overheating. However, as if it had suddenly burned out all of its anger, the demon seemed to cool down a bit, it diffusing most of the heat from the flames that shrank to half of their size; yet a smile not bearing any good news to any being within hundred mile radius formed on its full lips. _[Although,_ _before skinning you,_ _I am_ _curious to hear your reason for spreading and tossing all that chalk around when fighting me.]_  
  
Getting the feeling that one was regarded like the butt of a very twisted joke was a brand new and an entirely unwanted feeling for Kakashi at that very moment, and the silver-haired teen gave a cautious look at the circle of chalk inside which he was standing, the silvery eyebrows furrowing in accumulating discomfort over the nagging thought that he had overseen something that he should not have. Sensing that the demon standing a few feet away from him was more interested in watching him squirm than actually making an effort to start mincing his limbs, the nineteen-year-old genius showed his cards to his opponent, the gray eyes peering at the glowing blue behind the silvery bangs. “...Chalk is commonly used in protective barriers against spirits and to replace ink in situations when painting the seals would take too much time or the surface on which it should be drawn proves to be unsuitable for ink.”  
  
A slow, taunting rise of a slender eyebrow was all he got for his answer. _[Then let me tell you something, if you please.]_ The coy smile stretched into a feral grin which made Kakashi's skin crawl like it had been peeled off with a blunt butter knife. _[_ _The industrial nature of mortal men has proven to be quite a topic among our kind, I must admit._ _Chalk is indeed a good way to draw seals to the ground, as it also does give a nice cover against beings who rely mostly on their sensitive_ _sense_ _s,]_ the demon gave a passing rub at the new scar decorating his face, and then took a slow step towards the young man who took a defensive stance inside his barrier, _[and chalk is said to have natural powers to mislead or repel evil spirits and beasts – however,]_ the wickedly grinning mouth twisted into a smug smirk that in turn twisted Kakashi's stomach into complicated knots, the tighter the closer the demon came to his circle, the fiery flicks on the man's body almost touching his sweating skin, _[_ _it seems that you have been fooled by the discretion of the ones that usually tend to my needs. You see,_ _what you have soiled your hands with is not chalk, my little shinobi, but the ashes of my brides._ _In other words_ _,]_ a swing of a strong arm cut through the air and a large portion of the hastily drawn barrier was gone, leaving one stunned shinobi stare at the victoriously glinting eyes of his toothily smirking opponent, _[ **it can keep me from strangling you just as effectively as those silly**_ ** _little_** _ **brides of mine were told that wearing all those layers of finely woven silk would keep me from devouring them.** ]_  
  
The air became heady with the murderous intent that hit Kakashi's solar plexus with a force of an enraged bull, and while he felt the air leave him in one violent wheeze, his ringing ears registered the clank of a dropped blade hitting the ground by his feet. Soon enough, a familiar hand took a hold of his throat, and as his feet left the ground, the gasping young adult felt his robes get ripped away from concealing his shoulders and chest, followed by the loud clatter of blades and poisonous needles falling to the ground next to his three-pointed one. The pale body jerked violently as the upper armor it wore was impatiently torn off from protecting it, the clawed hand focused in tearing off all the layers that hid the frail male body on the verge of adulthood, the demon paying no heed to the futile struggles of the mortal it held in its unrelenting grasp. Finally, only the bare skin of a young human's sweaty torso was revealed for the viewing pleasure of the contently humming demon that had not let go of the constricting throat of its victim.  
  
_[So_ _young_ _in the profession, yet so untainted still. Remarkable.]_ The appreciative purr was followed by a roughly caressing hand mapping out the corners and nooks of the pale-skinned human who let out a startled, choked cry as one rosy red nipple was teased with a flick of a flame that sent a spark of heat pooling in his still clothed hips, all being detected by the keenly observing eyes that looked at the blushing body like they owned it exclusively. _[Ah..._ _I shall enjoy this one_ _.]_  
  
Kakashi didn't have enough oxygen left in his lungs to even hiss at the riddling words, but before he could further claw and scratch at the hand that was cutting off his air supplies, suddenly he felt the solid ground beneath the soles of his feet and then an even more solid wall thump against his back that stiffened at the shocking sensation of coldness pressing against his heated skin. The sudden stimulus made his mouth open in a shocked shout that was swallowed by burning lips crashing on his and the long tongue that slipped past his open lips to wrap itself around his tongue in a messy tangle of saliva. The indignation over improper touching didn't have time to rise its head when carnal lust and burning desire, sweet like honey that was set on fire, made the blood boil in his veins and his nerves sing high like a kite. The touch of the fiery hands left burning trails all over his skin, the scorching hotness of the other's naked skin making him dizzy with clashing urges fighting over control inside him; yet the feel of having his body hitched high against the wall before his legs were spread open and something hot and hard slid over his clothed erection made them all reach an unexpected draw when the last of his surviving brain cells were fried. There was too little air, too many sensations at once and by the fire of all hells the demon could _kiss_.  
  
_[You are quite the treat, are you not, my little shinobi.]_ The voice, husky and dark like the tendrils of thick smoke that arose around them moaned inside his mind, and Kakashi let out a wanton sound he would surely feel embarrassed about in any other occasion when the slick tongue of the demon slid all over his mouth before licking hot paths all over his trembling lips, coaxing his tongue to follow its path into the mouth full of pearly white teeth. _[You make me want to possess you and yet at the same time to_ _eat your heart and_ _burn you to ashes._ _Y_ _ou devious_ _see_ _d_ _ling_ _of men.]_ If a death threat could ever sound like an endearment, Kakashi could confidently say that it would sound exactly like the entity eating him from inside out made it sound: oddly promising for something even better.  
  
The young shinobi knew he had lost. His disastrously shaken mind was shutting down, his body was inflamed with heady mixture of desire, lust, despair and shame in equal amounts, and his spirit had unfurled itself open completely; spread open wide and awaiting for a strike like his quivering body. As a matter of fact, seeing that he would be screwed in more ways than one no matter what angle he viewed his position from, Kakashi felt more than willing to see how far the other's promise would carry him. Pulling his crumbling self-control back together for the last moment of coherence, the swollen lips of the young man mouthed nonsensical words, hasty, dirty and pleading, against the pearly white teeth and luscious lips of the other.  
  
The smile that formed on the golden, flaming face at his words was both beautiful and bestial at the same time.

 

 

* * *

 

  
  
A pair of sandal-clad feet belonging to a lone man climbed up the stony stairs, the chilling northern breeze pulling at the thick robes covering the body wearing them, the hidden pockets of his armor and the sharp weapons of his profession giving the comforting sensation of a solid, familiar weight that shielded his body against both the changing climate and the turbulent times of men. His shoulders and armpits ached from the straps of his bag digging into his skin. The strong legs and hands, grown familiar with war and the loss of those that they had carried, had no longer the lean and delicate structure of a growing warrior but the defined edges of a seasoned shinobi, the white mask covering the masked jaw and fair brow, it hiding the weary expression in the eyes of its bearer who had just passed under the gates of a city that no longer was said to exist in the Land of Fire.  
  
He was a living legend, they said. A man haunted by the collection of ghosts, told others. His eyes were rumored to cast a curse on the targets that managed to escape his blade, making them go through hell and back before killing themselves in a moment of insanity. His Will of Fire had even been claimed to be so strong and devoted that it was enough to set men in flames by him just looking at them funnily. That, by far, had been the most entertaining tail of a gossip that Hatake Kakashi, the infamous Hound, had heard from his traveling peers. Who would have thought that a merely damaged eye with a split iris could cause such a fuss when used the right implications. The masked assassin was feeling rather confident to assume that he had Genma to thank about that one.  
  
A dry chuckle turned into a fit of coughs. Good grief, he was tired.  
  
The setting sun cast his long shadow into the darkening corridor that he looked with mixed feelings, the wave of nostalgia being tainted with the surfacing emotions of grief, anger and confusion, followed by a niggling tingle of anticipation that traveled down his neck and the scarred body. Without bothering to hide his presence from the empty walls of the slowly decaying temple, the man walked inside, dismissing the abandoned rooms and hollow corridors on his way towards the single destination that had ever really mattered to him after that one fateful test of courage.  
  
The double doors hung from their frame, yet the barrier beam looked as good as new. Knowing about the seals embedded into it and the surrounding walls, it hardly held any surprise for the man crossing it, for he was already much more interested in the flicker of a small flame that was caught by his mismatched eyes the moment he stepped over the threshold. With a stride that many envied and even more feared, the man crossed the moldy wooden floor and stood halt by the modest hearth, it the size of a square meter, watching the play of a small fire at the center of it.  
  
After a moment of bidding goodbye to his undoubtedly deteriorating sanity when considering what he was about to do, the man dropped the worn and patched backpack he had been carrying and the pale hands, now wearing fingerless gloves with protective metal plates, dug inside the folds of the thick robes and after some rummaging pulled out a tattered pouch that read _chalk_. A quick yank of the deft fingers and the knotted thread opened, and one flick of a wrist later a rain of white powder poured over the meekly warming fire.  
  
He didn't get to wonder if the dramatic effect of it all was somehow lost to his tiredness when the explosion of blue, white and yellow flames revealed the familiarly glowing eyes that were dancing with barely suppressed delight at what they were seeing. _[You have_ _ **grown**_ _, shinobi.]_  
  
“Maa,” he heard himself say while a ridiculously fond smile bordering on a sharp smirk stretched the dark mask that was covering the face behind the white porcelain mask. The tingling on his neck intensified when the seal written with the blood of the demon now watching him from the flames came to life in the presence of its maker. “I suppose ten years on the road of life could do that to a person. I'm surprised that you recognized me.”  
  
The amused tilt of the full-lipped mouth spoke volumes that the sensible side of the shinobi wasn't too keen to listen too closely. _[_ _Your kind is far too_ _deceived_ _by arrogance to see your own ridiculousness._ _I could recognize that hair of yours from thousands of others_ _. What_ _may you_ _come bearing, though, to make this_ _charming reunion_ _more worthy of_ _cherishing_ _for me_ _instead of_ _getting the instant pleasure of neatly snapping your neck?]_ As lightly as it had spoken, the demon didn't need many words to spell out to the mortal man both the significance and the insult of the pale scar crossing the handsome face, the line of silvery white cutting across the golden bronze.  
  
“You're still hung up on that one?” Admittedly, he was a prick in a situation that really could go without him picking a fight with the only opponent that he had ever lost to, but Kakashi couldn't keep himself from teasing the naked man even a bit, if only to keep the lid on the fire that was slowly taking over his nether regions at the sight of so much bare skin – and judging from the devilish look passing the glowing eyes, the bastard was onto him.  
  
_[As 'hung up' as you_ _seem to be_ _with my_ _little gift,_ _shinobi_ _.]_ The sweetly seething reply made the air snap around the pair of men, a mortal and a demon, who had been left in a fairly strange standstill over a decade ago.  
  
Faced with the heavy silence, like many other times before in the murky past of his adolescence, Kakashi carefully counted his blessings and weighed his actions. Then, slowly, his hands reached to undo the straps of his white mask, the face of a hound dropping to reveal a gaze of both red and gray above a black mask. Before he could tug down the last layer of masks, however, a hand that emanated heat from its every pore took hold of his own and Kakashi had to blink in order to register that the demon had once again moved with speed that made both his instincts ring in alarm and his libido to skyrocket.  
  
_[It would be only appropriate for me to unveil you, would it not?]_ The look in the glowing eyes was deceivingly steady and calm, just like the smoothly ringing voice that sang invitingly in his ears, it grounding Kakashi's fretting mind and turning his growing anxiety into ash despite of him knowing that his position was anything but safe.  
  
He let his hand fall, not missing the flicker of excitement in the other's glowing eyes, which in turn made him painfully aware of the wave of heat that flooded his body. The fiery fingers traced over the edge of his mask, mimicking and wordlessly mocking its line that matched the pale scar bisecting the other's high cheeks, almost soothingly, before they curled around the fabric and Kakashi's lower face finally felt the exposure to the high temperatures after being so many years hidden behind the dark fabric.  
  
A sharp hiss of a sigh could be heard from the man caressing his bare face, the sharp-nailed fingers mapping the territory they already knew well. _[_ _They suit you well_ _, shinobi.]_ The voice was cooing, the demon sounding pleased with itself.  
  
The thin lips, not pale and soft like they had been once but red and chapped, curled into a small smile on a chin that was decorated with streaks of red, the burn marks that had marked a foolish young man who had been found slumped unconscious against the closed doors of the ceremonial hall that now lay rotten and forgotten around the odd pair. Feeling strangely abandoned, left naked and disoriented, he had woken in the infirmary, and he had been forced to bear the ashen faces of both his sire and his mentor, the stricken looks of his friends, and the avoiding gazes of the monks. While forcing the surfacing memories back deep into the dark waters of his mind, Kakashi reveled in the feel of a gentle burn of a flame brushing against his lips that stretched into a wry smile. “You look rather fetching yourself.” The sudden ring of laughter roared like a forest fire in his head.  
  
_[The peculiar little seedling has sprouted a strong stem while I have not been watching.]_ It boomed like a cannon shot when the demon laughed, the pearly white teeth glinting in its fiery light and eyes gleaming with the brightness of dawn as they sought out their mismatched counterparts and pinned them to place while the flames of the demon's growing arousal circled both of them leisurely. _[Your tongue is the same silver as it was when we met the last time.]_ The ancient entity stepped close, almost leaning against the mortal who he had sensed inside his sealed cage from the moment the man had set his foot on that side of the barrier. Its hands, long fingers with sharp nails and flames trailing all over the dark skin, cupped the marked chin gently between them, bringing the pair of thin lips closer to the full-lipped mouth that curved into a grin. _[_ _It excites me._ _]_  
  
That really shouldn't have been so huge turn on for him than it was. “Oh good, would have hated to find out that you were uninterested after all this time,” Kakashi heard himself chat while he was more concentrated on suppressing the urge to lick the lips that teased him from so close and keeping himself from rubbing against his opponent's apparent erection that he could feel pressing through every single layer of his clothing and armor, the demon's fiery presence and rising hunger pulling at the skin around the seal on his neck.  
  
What his flexing fingers were working on out of their line of sight, though, was something he had learned to do in his sleep.  
  
The smile answering his meek joke was sharper than any of the blades that the assassin had ever raised against his enemies. _[_ _I do have to admit, there were times when I surmised that you were_ _foolish enough to_ _either_ _end up_ _dead or become a monk._ _]_ Slowly, the demon's teasingly purring voice gained an edge that had not been there before; a rumble of claiming possession – a warning preceding an attack. _[_ _You made me wait for a long time, shinobi. Plenty of time to think how I would play with you._ _To remember how you tasted.]_  
  
The press of lips against his was brutal in force and terrifying in its intensity, making Kakashi's muscles and bones release a full-body shudder and his moaning mouth to open under the swipes of the hungry tongue that followed the invitation and slithered past the thin lips. A hiss of steam made his ears ring, and as he was pulled closer by a pair of strong hands, he noticed that for one, now he was the same height with the man who was kissing him silly, and two, the demon's skin had stopped burning, only wisps of steam rising from the hot body and encircling them. It was all he aimed for. The faint fums of gathering chakra were drowned out by his groan, but he could feel the five tips of his fingers of his right hand ignite with a beginning of a risky bet, which almost got snuffed out as his concentration wavered when his tongue was given a very greedy suck, the demon kissing him like it owned him – which, in a way, wasn't so far from the truth.  
  
But, a good shinobi always had a way of twisting the truth, and Kakashi regarded himself as an excellent shinobi.  
  
Quickly, his left hand squeezed itself between the embracing bodies and took a good hold onto the hard length that had played many starring roles in his feverish dreams, part of him feeling victorious over the snarl of pleasure that rumbled from the demon's chest, yet the other part of him sharpened its aim since he knew that right then, against all odds, he had the man where he wanted him. After giving a pump on the long cock in his hand, forcibly discarding the rising longing to hold the heavy, silken feel of throbbing flesh in his palm, Kakashi pushed himself away from the embracing arms and without wasting even the quarter of a second, his right hand thrust forth, his fingers pressing hard and deep against the abdomen of the stunned demon who had been too busy molesting the body in its hands to realize that something was up. Once again a scream of anger and betrayal pierced the air with an impact that shattered some of the wooden floor boards on the way. The light was bright and blinding around them, his neck felt like every single one of his vertebrae were plucked through his skin, and Kakashi kept his eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of splinters that whizzed in the air, all the while pressing his fingers harder, deeper, _firmer_ against the torso of his target, his whirring mind drawing the exact lines of a complex design, connecting a dot after a dot and brushing a stroke over a stroke as what he had been learning for the ten years in theory was finally tested in practice. Then, the moment the last squiggle of calligraphy made contact with the rest, a loud pang of chakra deafened his ears.  
  
Then, silence.  
  
A hush of darkness enveloped them, without a beat of a heart disturbing the heavy ambiance that lingered around the pair of men standing still against each other, the glowing eyes of the fallen demon now dark as a pit and the mismatched eyes of the deathly still shinobi held tightly shut. Then, a gasp of breath surfaced from the thin lips on a pale face, and the narrow eyes of the silver-haired man blinked against the shadows and dots of light that still danced in his vision before peering cautiously at the other being of flesh that had slumped bonelessly against the human, with no flicker of a flame in sight. The weight pressing against him was surprisingly heavy, and Kakashi spent a moment to surmise if he had gotten it all wrong in the end and had now permanently sealed his miserable future. The following second, however, he was proven otherwise.  
  
“... _You_ _ **fucking**_ _mortal.”_ Before the words had been even properly growled, the held demon twisted into action and the pale warrior lost the breath he had gained when his back connected with the wooden floor with a loud crack, followed by a body straddling him and the blazing, dark eyes that were screaming murder to the man they were scowling at. Tan hands, shaking with sheer want to maim and tear, took a hold of the pale throat they were itching to strangle and yanked the surprised shinobi to meet his enraged executor. _“_ _ **What the hell did you**_ _-”_ Suddenly, a shadow of confusion crossed the dark-skinned face, and the snarling mouth snapped shut with an audible click.  
  
Considering that his life was either at the end of a very slippery rope or that he had just managed to rope himself with a life that could still end prematurely, Kakashi kept silent and observed the man who was currently fingering his jugular. Tan skin, bare and muscular, sans flickering flames or rising steam obscuring the view, was in open display, sprawled on top of his thighs. The dark, albeit slightly bristled, long hair that no longer whipped around the man's attractive face framed the dark, dark eyes, almost black as coal, which were looking in shock at what most likely was a very goofily grinning shinobi who had not yet seen it important to save his skin from the maiming he was most likely about to receive once the man sitting on top of him had gotten over the situation they had found themselves in.  
  
Soon enough, the dark eyes sharpened back into focus and a press of a sharp nail drew blood from the pale skin, a sensation that went completely unnoticed by the shinobi who was more concentrated on staring at the full lips that slowly formed the words of a question. _“...What...did...you..._ _ **do**_ _...?”_  
  
“You can consider this as my dowry, if you wish,” Kakashi said, and the sudden shake he was given made his vision spin before he once again stared into eyes that were spitting fire and brimstone.  
  
Not that the glaring man's words were lacking any heat to begin with. _“Nice try princess, but as we_ _have_ _stated_ _the obvious_ _, you are not a maiden, so you have four seconds to explain yourself before I rip you several new ones,_ _starting from your_ _rectum_ _._ _”_ Following those words, the tan hands shoved down the lax shinobi, the peeved demon dismissing the pained _ngh_ coming from his captive as the silver-haired man's head connected with the floor, since the dark-haired man was suddenly far more concerned with other things. _“Fuck, why do I sound like this?”_ A series of hisses and hacks rose from the tan throat and the dark eyes squinted accusingly at the crisscrossing lines of pale blue chakra that glowed on the dark skin before dimming away, leaving no trace on the bare stomach.  
  
The following silence wasn't sure if it was its place to fill the awkward ambiance with anything, so it let it be and decided to see who would break first. Kakashi wasn't one to disappoint it. “It's my insurance.”  
  
The moment when the meaning behind his words sank in the demon's mental register, the look on the entity's face could have been said to illustrate a fair dose on incredulity mixed with a spoonful of rising storm and a pinch of morbid curiosity. _“_ _You really are a piece of work.”_  
  
Kakashi gave a pause at that. Ah well, he wasn't one to lead a slow or a long life anyway. “Maa, forced abstinence for ten years does make a number on a man born with healthy needs,” the pale man noted, and as if there wasn't a naked and homicidal demon sealed in a very attractive human form sitting on top of him, Kakashi took a more comfortable position against the shattered floorboards and let his eyes linger on the dark ones that stared him back. “Besides, what were you expecting? I may be your virgin bride, but I am still a man brought up in a hidden city. It is only proper for me to add to the fine print in this deal,” he said, and couldn't hide the stupid smile on his thin lips. Given that he was still breathing, Kakashi tested his chances and let his pale hands rise to rest on the warm, bare skin of tan thighs that were warming his sides.  
  
_“_ _Oh_ _..?_ _It appears that the little seed has an ego_ _which I was not aware of_ _,”_ huffed the naked man, passingly eying the gloved hands now rubbing the skin of his legs and hips. However, the dark eyes swirled with something that gave a sharp pull at the seal on Kakashi's neck, like a leash of leather tightening around his throat. A snap of fingers and the mismatched eyes were briefly blinded by a spark of a blue flame erupting from the demon's hands. A sweet smile with pearly white teeth greeted the man lying on the ground. _“_ _I do like_ _men_ _who_ _make me work for their_ _liver_ _s,_ _but let me remind you that while_ _I may be sealed in this_ _disgraceful_ _f_ _orm,_ _you have not taken away_ _all_ _my powers. So watch that silver tongue.”_  
  
“So am I right in thinking that you don't think about rejecting my proposition, then?” The negative answer would certainly put a stint to his later plans.  
  
The quirk of a slender, dark eyebrow was surprisingly humoring him, despite everything. _“_ _I think you have a_ _ **thing**_ _for sleeping with one eye open_ _,”_ said the slightly raspy yet velvety voice that somehow managed to add a considerate rise of temperature to all of the dirty promises that the inching smile on the full lips was giving him. Then the dark-haired man leaned down to look straight into the mismatched eyes of the foolishly beaming shinobi, whose rising body heat the mighty entity could feel through the thick layers of cotton, leather and metal. However, while the smile stayed on the handsome face, the dark eyes hardened into fine steel and the pearly white smile showed an impressive set of fangs. _“_ _If you ever betray me, I will kill you and follow you beyond the grave to make your afterlife pure hell._ _”_  
  
“Noted. Now kiss the bride.” Yes, he definitely liked what he had managed to finally fumble for himself, and as he leaned up to meet the other's hungry lips, Hatake Kakashi was looking forward to surviving his wedding night.


End file.
